


About A Boy

by kyokokittychan



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: 90'S, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Gen, M/M, Summer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-06-08 21:04:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6873190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyokokittychan/pseuds/kyokokittychan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not so much about the destination as it is about the journey, said a man who clearly never resided in a small town populated by no more than 150 people.</p><p>For the destination is about the average working college student who has to pay his way through life by working in a porn shop ironically called The White Swallow.<br/>It's about a young man who is more interested in the porn shop worker than the actual porn being sold, even though Back Door Sluts 9 is just right behind him.<br/>It's about the smallest person telling a story about a boy he believes to be the devil and the truth he learns during his investigations.</p><p>The journey is about those that were left behind, and those that are right in front of us. It's about learning from your mistakes and about changing your future. It's about the difference between owning who you are and running from who you're not.</p><p>For this is a story about where the destination is the journey... and one cannot begin without the other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Big Bertha's Big Brother

Summer heat wafted in lazily to the small, suburban town of Shannon in the middle of May, when really it had no business coming so early. 

On one side of town, the sound of whimpering could be heard in the east hall of Shannon high. This whimpering came from one student in particular, who was only known as Big Bertha, despite her stature standing at 4 foot 9, her weight an average 120 pounds, and her name simply being anything other than Bertha. There was once a story behind the name Big Bertha but it had been forgotten, as stories that never become legends do, and all that was left was the name as proof that a story had once existed. Many had theorized that Big Bertha’s whimpering that day pertained to the forgotten story behind her nickname but only those in the girl’s locker room and Big Bertha herself knew the reason for her whimpering. Her whimpering had become a medical side affect of venturing out into summer heat for gym class when it was still considered spring, and then returning to the school building to face the inevitable truth that while the weather had decided summer came early, the school board did not. So Big Bertha whimpered for herself and the rest of her fellow students as they still had one month left until their summer began.

Over on the other side of town, college students wiped sweat from their brows before it could fall on textbooks littering every available surface in the library. The old building, built entirely on a foundation of pleaseohgoddonotfallover lacked one of the fundamental designs of the 20th century, which had been dubbed unanimously as an air conditioner unit. The community college of Shannon, SCC for those privy, had not been given this update about this so called air conditioner unit and therefore lacked one in the library, which was currently crammed with 26 students studying for their final exams. But even with the threat of heat exhaustion and general annoyance looming over their heads, college students braved the library in the pursuit of at least a 3.0 GPA. And within this hustle of sweat slickened bodies and the clack of flip flops hitting the linoleum floor a boy of 20 years was found with a perpetual scowl on his face that threatened to quickly turn into a snarl if anyone dared come near his personal bubble. But as hustles go, one cannot easily avoid coming into contact with another’s personal space and the unfortunate soul who made contact with this boy’s bubble was known as Big Bertha’s Big Brother. His name was entirely forgotten once his little sister had inherited her own nickname and he lived in a constant state of depression caused by this lack of remembrance. 

Perhaps it was this state that led him to be unaware of his general surroundings within the confines of SCC’s library, maybe it was the lack of sleep he had from pulling an all nighter to study for his Organic Chemistry final that he had taken that morning at 8, or it could have even been the mixture of tears and sweat in his eyes as he thought about said final that he had no doubt he flunked. It could have easily been any of these reasons, but the 20-year-old boy didn’t really care about Big Bertha’s Big Brother’s reasons for invading his personal space. He didn’t really have the time or willpower to think about these reasons as Big Bertha’s Big Brother’s sneaker, dirty from running away in shame after his final that morning, stepped on the boy’s own clean sneaker, now of course sullied with Organic Chemistry shame. The boy let out a startled yelp that turned into a growl in record-breaking time and whipped his head to the side; blue eyes wild with rage met terrified brown ones. 

The boy opened his mouth to give the nastiest lecture he could concoct in the span of 2 seconds that consisted of nothing more than a stream of sounds that would tear Big Bertha’s Big Brother’s soul from his body, but before he could deliver the scream of a lifetime, Big Bertha’s Big Brother turned on his heel and sprinted down the north side of the library, which ironically only contained books about the art of running, which Big Bertha’s Big Brother had become very well acquainted with just that morning despite not reading any of those books. The boy watched him flee in sheer terror and closed his mouth into a tight line, with the scream still trapped behind his lips. 

“Shit, who knew he could be so fast,” A voice spoke to the boy’s left and the boy begrudgingly turned to face the owner of the voice. It was another boy who stood slightly taller with a smirk on his face and a gleam in his mischievous eyes. 

“You might just make the whole student body run with that look you gave B-4, Roxas.” The other one laughed.

“B-4?” Roxas asked, a slight raise in his eyebrows but with fury still glistening in his eyes.

“Big Bertha’s Big Brother. You know, 4 B’s so B-4.” 

“Who else calls him that?”

“Everyone, stupid.”

“No they don’t.”

“Yes they do!”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Says the one who was about to murder B-4 for stepping on his shoes!”

“I just bought these and that fucker stepped on them! Do you know how much money these fucking cost, Hayner?!” Roxas screamed and the other students in the library who had been watching the two warily quickly decided to move away to avoid the fallout that was sure to come.

Hayner laughed and in an act of sheer defiance to God patted Roxas’ spiky blond locks to further tease the shorter boy. 

If you had asked any of the students that day, save for Big Bertha’s Big Brother who hid in the broom closet huddled between a bucket of dirty water, that had just cleaned puke from the girl’s dormitory bathroom, and a feather duster, that housed a small but strong family of spiders, they would tell you that the devil is real.

As soon as Hayner’s hand left Roxas’ head the world seemed to stop for only a second before the ground opened and all of the demons came loose from their eternal damnation. Roxas’ eyes seemed to turn red as his hand snatched Hayner’s own and pulled it slowly from his head.

“Don’t… touch… the hair.” Roxas snarled, and the other students standing nearby ran either into the broom closet with Big Bertha’s Big Brother or out the front door completely. GPA be damned.

Hayner cackled before gently removing Roxas’ vice grip from his wrist. “Oh sorry I forgot you murdered a bottle of hair gel in order to achieve such godly perfection.”

Demons swirled around Roxas’ head in a dance of temptation, cackling as Hayner once had, muttering words, “First his sneaker, now his hair, master is not pleased, master is angry, master will take his vengeance… Big Bertha’s Big Brother beware… Hayner beware… for the devil is here.”

A girl could be heard crying in the corner and the very foundation of the library shook, unfortunate to its mantra of pleaseohgoddonotfallover, but with one last ray of hope a light glinted off the librarians glasses as she turned this last ray of light onto Roxas and Hayner. Roxas hissed at the forthcoming light and his demons seemed to whither under the gaze of such brightness. 

Hayner smiled, as the woman’s words seemed to be the voice of God speaking, “If you are not going to be quiet, you will have to leave. Students are trying to study.”

Roxas glowered and his eyes quickly shifted back to blue and the ground closed once more with a few demons screaming softly at being sucked back down to their eternal damnation. Students returned once more, free from the foul vomit stench of the closet, and the exhausting heat of the sun, to find two boys standing next to each other rather than just one and the devil himself.

Of course all of this happened to be seen by teenagers and young adults penchant for the dramatic. And not one of them could be blamed for seeing a devil boy and a librarian angel all in the confines of a small community college library in the middle of nowhere, Maine. The lack of sleep and heat could be a cause for such delusions or it could also even be the hope that Roxas, better known as the devil, will destroy them in a bout of pure fury to keep them from continuing on in the Battle of Finals Week. It could have been easily any of these reasons but for Big Bertha’s Big Brother, who wept on the phone to his little sister, he would swear until the day he died that the devil was real and inhabited the body of a young boy named Roxas Hikari. 

For years after this incident Big Bertha’s Big Brother would tell any unfortunate soul who would listen his tale of his tango with the devil and every single person would laugh him off, despite having been there to see the incident themselves. He would become the joke of the town, the boy who believed in the devil possessing the body of a 20-year old outsider. But Big Bertha’s Big Brother knew. And for the two remaining years Roxas resided in the sunny town of Shannon Big Bertha’s Big Brother spied on him to try and gather enough evidence to prove he wasn’t in fact crazy. For 2 years he watched Roxas day in and day out, at a safe distance of course, and he saw what no man should see. He learned everything he could learn of Roxas Hikari and at the end of those 2 years he knew in his heart that the devil may have possessed this boy at one point but had left him devastated and broken by the end. For the story of Roxas Hikari is not a pleasant one. It is not a story that is told for the faint of heart. 

And for Big Bertha’s Big Brother’s future telling’s, the story of Roxas starts at a porn shop called The White Swallow with a sign at the front cracked but still concisely states Enter Through the Rear. It starts when a man with slicked red hair walks into the door, cigarette lit, and green eyes surveying the floor before landing on the blond spikes of Roxas’ head behind the service counter, flipping rather bored through a Vanity Fair magazine and a disposition of help your fucking self, don’t ask me. 

And when said man does not help himself this story starts with the words drawling out of a poor college student’s mouth, “How can I help you today, sir?”

It begins on May 12th, 1994.


	2. $3

Roxas had known Hayner for about 3 years, which would become an ironic number a couple of years into their friendship, and throughout their 3 years there was one thing that annoyed Roxas above all else; Hayner’s stubbornness. 

The first time he had discovered Hayner’s stubbornness was at their local grocery store, Greg’s Grocery. As one penchant for the dramatic, as all teenagers of sound mind and body possessed, he only bought a certain type of egg salad at the deli. The egg salad had to be made by Beth, with the salad completely covered by an amount of paprika that cannot be measured in any metric system known to man. It was an egregious amount of paprika and the mere sight of it left Roxas gagging for the rest of the day. But on the day in question, a Saturday to be precise, Beth was running late and Greg made the egg salad that sat in the display window. Hayner stood at the deli, face red, hair starting to limp at the sight of an egg salad with a normal amount of paprika sprinkled on top and asked when Beth would be in. Greg, a man who held as much pride in his cooking as he did in his pet Chihuahua being able to fetch a stick far too big for its little body to carry, stood in all of his 6’7’’ muscular glory and claimed Beth would not be in for hours, with a small vein popping from his neck just to add to his character. Hayner in his meager 5’8’’ slimmer stature just simply nodded and said he would wait. Now Roxas, who was not willing to wait hours for an egg salad that made him gag, told Hayner they could just come back later. But Hayner just glared at Roxas and said with same amount of venom as a black mamba, “I’m going to wait for my egg salad.” Roxas, having only known Hayner for a couple of months did what any sane kid would do and simply left the store to meet up with his other friends. It was not until 2 weeks later when Roxas had to make a run to Greg’s Grocery that he heard the story of Hayner standing in front of the deli for a full 2 hours, waiting for Beth to make him an egg salad. Greg had been telling Patti the tale, while the two scanned items down their lanes and when Greg mumbled, “That kid is a fucking psychopath… I mean how does he even manage to ingest that amount of paprika?” Roxas couldn’t help but silently agree.

But despite this apparent lack of brain cells, Roxas continued hanging out with Hayner and the two grew closer, even with his disgusting eating habits. His second witness to Hayner’s stubbornness was at the local quarry, nicknamed Old Man Quarry by Seifer and his gang of delinquents. The quarry sat snugly at the end of Mussel Farm Hill Rd., just past the abandoned orphanage nicknamed ‘abandoned twice’, and was tucked far enough into the woods that adults couldn’t spy on the activities happening within. This was important for underage kids, carting PBR, and joints far too small to actually get any individual high, in old tattered backpacks that were meant to carry knowledge but carried something far from it instead. This was the haven for the kids of Shannon, and the summer escapism every single one of them dreamed of. The only catch was that a mile further into the woods sat Quincy Quinn’s house, name as unfortunate as it sounds. The old man lived alone, in an old cabin with no electricity or running water. No one knew for sure how Quincy ended up living alone in the woods. Perhaps a horror movie gone wrong, but the theories were endless and were passed along from kid to kid at the quarry, much like the joints that only lasted about 2 hits. The only thing the kids knew to be true was that Quincy came and collected water from the quarry every night right before sunset, and the few times Quincy ran into kids had been a disaster from start to finish. The quarry was technically on his property, and being his only supply of fresh water one could imagine how a bunch of dirty, beer-drinking and weed-smoking children might put an old man on edge. The cardinal rule of Old Man Quarry was that you can arrive as early as you wanted, but you had to be gone by sunset. 

The day in question, a Sunday to be precise, had started off as a perfect day. Hayner, Pence, Olette, and Roxas made the trek past ‘abandoned twice’ and down Mussel Farm Hill Rd. at 9 in the morning, backpacks full of PBR and weed, save Olette’s whose backpack was filled with snacks and water for her friends who happened to never pack anything essential, and began their day relaxing at Old Man Quarry. For such a small town it was amazing how big the quarry actually was. It could easily fit 30 people in the water and it had cliffs big enough for jumping into. There was the starter cliff at 15 ft., which was reserved for anyone under the age of 14, the middle cliff at 30 ft. for any normal kid, and the large cliff at 60 ft. for those who wanted to test their faith in God. Roxas and his friends stuck to the 30 ft. one for the majority of the day, taking breaks between swimming to drink and eat and pass their small joint around their small group. Their day of relaxation changed when Seifer and his gang showed up in the evening. It was no secret among the townsfolk that Hayner and Seifer hated one another. Their feud had started in middle school, long before Roxas arrived, and when he pressed Pence and Olette on the issue neither of them said why the two hated each other so much. They clearly knew the reason, as did the rest of the community, but for whatever reason they wouldn’t tell Roxas what happened. There was a day when Roxas almost got the answer out of Big Bertha’s Big Brother, but before he could squeal Hayner showed up and sent B4 running for the hills. The beginning of many run aways from Roxas and Hayner. That was the first time Hayner and Roxas had ever truly fought, and to preserve the friendship Roxas elected to drop the subject, but to this day he still doesn’t know the reason and he couldn’t say truthfully, he wasn’t hurt that Hayner didn’t trust him enough to tell him.  
But whatever the reason, Hayner and Seifer hated one another with a passion, and as any good friend would Pence, Olette, and Roxas hated Seifer as well. Seifer’s friends were no exception to the rule of hating whomever your friend despised and they too joined in on the feud. So when Seifer and his crew wandered into Old Man Quarry, backpacks of their own bouncing as they walked, Hayner’s eyes narrowed into slits and the relaxing aura quickly changed. Roxas could’ve sworn that he saw the water start to boil as Hayner’s loathing seeped into the very air surrounding him, but he blamed it on watching too much television for his own good. When Seifer, Fuu, Rai, and Vivi saw the other four kids their haughty superiority came in fast. “Well would you look at what the Old Man dragged in… the Fantastic 4. Hothead, Blockhead, Invisible Girl, and Mr. Fantastic.” Seifer sneered, setting his packs down on the other side of the quarry.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Hayner hollered, face as red as a brick. It was easy for one to theorize which of the four Hayner took after. “We’re here to swim, same as you fuckers.” Seifer spat. “Yeah we have a right to be here too y’know,” Rai added, standing tall besides his leader.

Before Hayner could open his mouth Olette, no longer being invisible, interjected, “Whatever, we don’t care. Just stay on your side and we’ll stay on ours. Does that work for you?”  
Seifer was quiet but Fuu stood up, removed her shirt and shorts to reveal a bikini underneath and said in her usual one-word answers, “Acceptable,” and leapt into the water for good measure. Olette nodded, gave a sarcastic wave and leapt into the water herself. The matter at hand seemed settled, with the two groups quietly hating each other from afar but things changed when Pence teased Roxas about jumping off the 60 ft. cliff. “C’mon I’ll give you $10 to do it.” Pence wiggled his eyebrows, crushing a beer can. Roxas laughed, “No way man, I’m too chicken for that. Besides I just know I would land wrong and then you sorry assholes would have to carry my dead body outta here.” Olette giggled at the statement but all of a sudden Hayner jumped up and screamed across the way, “You got something to fucking say?”

Seifer lowered his hand from his mouth, where he had been concealing his laughter and his face instantly lit up at the challenge Hayner was throwing him. “Yeah actually… I said that your Mr. Fantastic over there is too much of a fucking pussy to ever do it. It’s a joke to even ask him.” Roxas, not one to be easily embarrassed, didn’t let the insult get to him. He literally had just proclaimed he was too chicken to do it anyways, but Hayner, being easily riled, started stalking over to Seifer and his friends. Sensing the imminent fight, Roxas and Pence trailed behind him, ready to stop Hayner from doing something stupid. “You can talk shit all you want Seifer but I don’t see you fucking jumping.” Hayner was practically under Seifer’s nose, glaring up at him with more hate than Roxas thought was possible for one man to possess. Seifer, being similar to Hayner in personality, rose to this bait just as easily as Hayner did a measly few minutes ago. “I have no problem jumping, because I’m not a pussy. But I’m not sure about you Hayner… pussy might be too easy of a word to describe you.” Roxas’ muscles tensed, ready to pull Hayner back at a moment’s notice, or land a punch to Seifer’s jaw… whatever he decided in a second but Hayner beat him to it, “Alright let’s fucking jump then.”

Seifer lost composure for only a second, before his bravado came back full force and he hissed, “Fine let’s do it. Whoever doesn’t jump has to do the other’s homework for a week.” Without saying a word, Hayner turned on his heel and started heading up the path to the top of the cliff. Neither Roxas nor Pence had time to have the dramatic talk with Hayner, like in the movies, where the protagonist’s friends tell him he has nothing to prove and beating the bully won’t win Lindsey’s heart but the protagonist claims he’s not doing it for Lindsey but for his dad who always believed in him, even after his death, and then the protagonist comes out on top despite a close race, and the bully sulks away, never really learning the lesson of the story. All of the feel-good movie scenarios played in Roxas’ head as he watched his best friend stand at the top of a 60 ft. cliff next to his arch nemesis, overlooking the faces of those he hated and those he cared for and without any hesitation he leapt off the rock and hung in the air only for a moment before plummeting to the waters below. And as he fell Roxas remembered that only a month ago Hayner had told him his fear of heights and the only reason he jumped off the 30 ft. cliff was because his best friends were right there besides him, and he couldn’t believe that Hayner had just faced one of his biggest fears out of pure spite and stubbornness. But unlike the movies, Seifer also did jump, and the bet ended in a tie and a much heated discussion between the two before the ladies of both parties pulled their respective friend away to pack up their stuff and head home before Quincy Quinn came out for his water. It was only later when Hayner sat shaking in the backseat of Pence’s car did Roxas realize how scared he had truly been the whole time, and he didn’t really know if Hayner did it on his behalf or simply because he couldn’t stand Seifer but he gained a little more respect for Hayner’s stubbornness that day, despite the entire situation being completely pointless and just overall stupid.

The third incident of Hayner’s stubbornness completely destroyed any inkling of respect Roxas had for Hayner and his fucking stubbornness. In the small town of Shannon, there lacked any real fast food chains within a reasonable driving distance. The closest one was a Taco Bell that was a good 40-minute drive and on a late Thursday night, after playing video games and smoking, Hayner decided that he absolutely had to have Taco Bell. So the two friends loaded up in Hayner’s old 1980 Corolla and drove the 40 minutes to Argent, Maine to get fucking Taco Bell. As they pulled up to the drive through, Roxas realized he hadn’t been all that hungry and mostly gone along for the ride, but being the intelligent little pothead he was he knew that at some point on their drive back he would be starving so he told Hayner to order him a regular taco. Hayner ordered his regular 5 soft and 5 crunchy tacos and he paid the woman, who did not look happy to be serving two high teenagers at 11:57 on a Thursday night. He got his change and they started their drive back to the small, reclusive town of Shannon. On the drive Roxas tried to pay Hayner back for his $3 taco but Hayner refused to take Roxas’ money. Roxas insisted he take the money but Hayner kept refusing saying he didn’t need it. For someone to fully understand this interaction one must know of Roxas’ complete hatred of owing someone money. It had become such a pet peeve of his that he was sure he would actually pay off his student loans within the first few months of graduation. Now Hayner didn’t mind owing people money but he absolutely detested people giving him money, for reasons no one could quite understand. Needless to say, he didn’t take money, even if the money rightly belonged to him as in this $3 taco debacle. For the rest of the 34 minute car ride the two started screaming at one another about who the $3 actually belonged to, and when they returned to Hayner’s dorm room he practically shoved the $3 into Hayner’s wallet, threw it into his room and shouted, “If I ever see that fucking $3 again I will slit your fucking throat,” and slammed the door in Hayner’s face. This of course in turn woke the rest of the floor up, grumbling obscenities under their breath, and stark faces of sleep-deprived students had Roxas fleeing from the scene of the crime. But to say this was the end of the $3 incident would be wishful thinking. Every chance Hayner had he somehow snuck the $3 into a hiding spot that Roxas would find eventually, but not right away. The first time he found the $3 was in his Women & Gender Studies notebook, tucked between his notes on gender fluidity and women in politics. He had been drinking coffee in his class, and proceeded to spit it all over his notebook, the $3, and Jenny Tillman who sat in front of him. No matter what Jenny would later proclaim, Roxas did not give her 3rd degree burns and the worst he did was stain her white t-shirt. But the memory of the coffee spewing asshole would haunt Jenny for years.

Every time Roxas found the $3 he would give it back to Hayner, a new threat unleashed with all the wrath of hell as Big Bertha’s Big Brother would witness in the library a year later, but even with all the threats Hayner still snuck the $3 onto Roxas’ person somehow and each time Roxas failed to notice until it was too late.

It was during this time when Roxas sat at the cash register, that made a horrendous groan every time it opened as if it knew it inhabited a porn shop, and he asked a red-haired man, “How can I help you today, sir?” that he found the $3 on page 69 of his copy of Vanity Fair and a feral scream escaped his lips, as curses, most likely demonic in nature, flew from his mouth in succession.

“I’LLKILLHIMTHATFUCKINGPIECEOFSHITMOTHERFUCKERTHINKSHECANDOTHISTOMEINMYPLACEOFEMPLOYMENTGODDAMMITI’LLFUCKINGKILLHIMI’LLCASTRATEHIMWHOTHEFUCKDOESHETHINKHE’SMESSINGWITHFUCKINGFUCKCUNTSHITBRAINEDMOTHERFUCKER…”

As Roxas continued to scream into the void, the red-haired man seemed to pull himself up from the counter, after he had collapsed in sheer fright from Roxas’ outburst, and plucked the $3 from the magazine. Roxas immediately stopped his screeching and at least had the decency to look mildly embarrassed at his small freak out.  
The redhead waved the stained bills absentmindedly and asked, “Do you not want the money or something?”

The redness behind Roxas’ ears spread to his cheeks and he sputtered, “Wha-I… no no it’s it’s mine. I-I just haven’t seen it in a while so it umm startled me, sorry I didn’t mean-“  
“You haven’t seen it in a while?” The redhead interrupted. “Does this place not pay you or something?” The smirk on his face widened as Roxas’ face shifted from embarrassment to annoyance.  
“What? No, I get paid… why else would I be sitting behind this counter?”

“For the view of course,” The redhead made a grand gesture to the wall of dildos behind him. “It is a spectacular one after all.” His green eyes creased in mirth and for a second Roxas had the strangest thought that they looked like tiny emeralds.

“Yeah it’s great…” He looked at the guy up and down, finally noticing him fully since he wasn’t wrapped up in his Vanity Fair and his attitude of please-don’t-talk-to-me-it’s-awkward-enough-you’re-shopping-for-porn. The redhead stood at a staggering height, with the wildest hair Roxas had ever laid eyes on. Red spikes shot from his scalp, going every direction imaginable but somehow still managed to look put together. Tiny triangle tattoos sat under gleeful green eyes, and his attire screamed grunge to him. He imagined he’d be the drummer of Nirvana if they didn’t already have a drummer. Looking at this man, Roxas realized he never saw him in town before and outsiders were rare in Shannon. Roxas was the last one, and he had arrived 3 years ago. Even working at a porn shop he still had the same customers come in, he even knew their fucking kids names, but this man before him he couldn’t tell you his name if he wanted to.

“I haven’t seen you here before,” Roxas said before he could stop himself. He didn’t know why he was engaging in conversation with the guy, but he couldn’t help but be excited at the prospect of someone new moving into town. He was tired of being the outsider, even though he had lived there for 3 goddamn years already.

The man raised a slender eyebrow and looked Roxas up and down as well. “I haven’t seen you either. I’m guessing you’re new.”

“Like you?” Roxas prodded but the man smiled and said, “Not new. Returning. It’s been a while since I’ve been here… Name’s Axel.” He stuck his hand forth, the $3 placed in his palm. Roxas smiled slightly and replied, “Roxas.”

“Well Roxas, are you gonna tell me why these $3 have you so riled up?” Axel laughed, it was pleasant and warm.

Roxas blushed again, “Um, it’s kind of a long story I’m not-“

“Trust me kid, I’ve got plenty of time.” Axel cut him off and for reasons Roxas could never figure out, even years from now, he told Axel the story of the taco bell incident. 

Without realizing it going to taco bell that night with Hayner had set things in motion. Things that might have been better left buried, but regardless of what might have been better the wheels of fate started churning and by the end of that night both boys had exchanged pager numbers and Axel said in farewell, “You’re different than the people who live here.” Roxas had thought it was a compliment at the time, but in later years he would realize it was anything but. 

And on May 13, 1994, a Friday to be exact, when Roxas would receive a message on his pager from Axel asking to hang out, he would not realize, until it was too late, that his quiet life in Shannon was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated in a long time, I honestly don't have an excuse I've just been lazy haha.  
> I'm actually moving across the country in less than a week so I dunno when I'll update next but hopefully not as late as this update has been.  
> I hope you enjoyed reading it!


	3. Olette

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since my last update, but I hope you guys enjoy! I had a lot of fun writing this

Olette Odair knew her role in her group of friends. She knew it as well as she knew her friends and their habits. Like how she knew the angle Pence liked to attack his sea salt ice cream from (bottom left to top right) and the twinkle in his eyes when he finished his last bite, like the small curvature of Hayner’s mouth when he pinched the ends of his hair till they split when stressed about schoolwork, how the light fell on Roxas’ face when he tipped his head out the car window to feel the ocean breeze brush his cheeks. She had known her role well before she bothered to even know herself. It was a role that grew more complicated over the years and like the waves of the Atlantic it rolled over constantly changing environments.

Before Roxas arrived Olette’s role had been noted as a “doting mother”, which might sound pleasant coming from anyone else’s mouth but Hayner’s. He had said the term their freshman year of high school, the first day to be exact, in response to Olette having packed lunch for herself, Pence, and Hayner. While Pence had the social skills to recognize the gesture as kind, and thanked Olette for thinking of him, Hayner had stared down at the swoop of the y in his name written on a brown bag and turned red behind the ears. And rather than admit to himself he was embarrassed by his feelings for his friend, he lifted his head and laughed obnoxiously, “Wow, you’re like a doting mother, Olette.” Olette’s own ears turned red and before she could snap at Hayner for having the social skills of a fucking spoon, Hayner nastily said, “I don’t need lunch, okay? We’re 14, if I wanted to bring lunch I would make it myself.” 

“Hey man, Olette was just doing something ni-“ Pence cut off mid sentence as his mouth hung open like a swinging door. His eyes grew wide and the small beginning of a nervous laugh bubbled up from his chest as he watched Olette stomp away angrily, hot tears welling in her eyes, and saw Hayner standing around bagged up food that Olette had just tried to dump over his head. 

In hindsight it would have been much more dramatic if the brown lunch bag had contained an open container of yogurt or juice that could have sloshed down Hayner’s hair when Olette turned the bag over to dump the contents on her friend. Some would argue it would have been even more satisfying, but forever the doting mother Olette had covered the sandwich in saran wrap, made sure the yogurt cup had a sealed lid, as well as the bottle of orange juice, and that the banana had not been peeled in the slightest. All of these items simply laid at Hayner’s feet and left him with no more than a small migraine and the knowledge that he had been a complete and utter fucking jackass to his friend. 

Olette spent her first period of her high school career in the east hall girl’s locker room crying and clutching the brown paper bag with Hayner’s name written in swooping letters. The east hall girl’s locker room had become an infamous place for crying and whimpering, and Mrs. Halsey who was responsible for the girls' gym classes on that side of the building simply turned her chair around to avoid looking at Olette's tear-stained, snot ridden face, and pulled out a small flask in her bottom left drawer to drink from and ended up pleasantly buzzed before the end of 2nd period. 

While Hayner had apologized later to Olette for being a dickweed, a word Olette was pretty sure he made up right then and there, and she had accepted his apology, she had still felt this anxiety of being the “doting mother” of her friend group, albeit as small as it was. To her a doting mother was no fun to be around, someone who was constantly nagging and just overall annoying, and for a 14 year old girl with two of her best friends being men, that was about the worst thing she could be. After that she started to change her outlook and actions, just like a new wave coming in to shore. She no longer brought lunches for her friends, she stopped reminding them about their homework, and she almost always caught herself before she began to give a lecture. She was determined to be “fun” and started encouraging reckless behavior that made her blood run cold. She helped Hayner throw rocks at Seifer’s house, she helped Pence change the D on his report card to a B, she even helped both of them smuggle beer out of Greg’s Grocery when Greg had turned the other way to reprimand Beth for putting too much paprika on the egg salad. She did all of these things and her role swiftly changed into the risk taker role, a position that Hayner had previously occupied. Every time she aided her boys on one of their stupid ideas she felt less like herself, but the smiles on their faces and their laughter that rang on the salted air warmed her heart in a way she couldn’t believe to be real. So she kept doing these things if it meant that her friends could live the reckless teenage lives they always wanted, and in a way it liberated her to know she was capable of breaking the rules. 

The role of risk taker stayed until her senior year of high school, graduation day to be exact. Graduation at the high school was small, only 14 students were graduating that year but for Olette the number could have simply been 3 and she would be glad. She stood next to her two boys with the sun filtering through the blue grad caps and lighting both of their heads in a halo of warmth. She cried when her name was called and she could hear Pence whooping down below and Hayner shouting, “That’s my girl!!” as she walked across stage. She could distantly hear her parents appraisals too but those seemed to pale in comparison to the two boys she loved more than she loved herself. While her parents had always been a steady presence in her life, and she did love them with all her heart, they resembled more of the North star. A point of guidance and reassurance while Pence and Hayner had always represented the sunrise, the beginning of her days. The thing she woke up to and thought about first. They meant everything to her, and she knew that she meant everything to them. They had never met anyone else who could join them in their sunrise.

After the festivities had died down, and dinners with parents were had, Hayner, Pence, and Olette met on Pence’s screened in porch, and passed around a silver flask that glinted dangerously under the porch light. They shared stories of their adventures that had started when they were measly 3 years old, and how they still had time together since they all were attending Shannon Community College in the fall. They sat together on the swinging chair, no longer fitting as comfortably as they did freshman year of high school, but still kept the tradition going regardless of room. Their bare legs touched as Pence pushed lightly off the ground to keep their momentum going. Olette still in her grad gown, while Pence and Hayner had shed it like a layer of skin and changed into their shorts and t-shirts for the humid summer night. They swung for hours, talking, drinking, while Pence’s parents slept right upstairs, oblivious to their child’s underage drinking right below them. It was then at 1:38 am that Hayner got an idea.

“Let’s go to the Swallow.” He grinned, a breathless, toothy grin that had Olette giggling but still questioning, “Why? Need some toys?”

Pence laughed loudly, but quickly covered his mouth and looked to his parents window to check for signs of movement. All was still as Hayner hissed back, “Ah shut up, that’s not what I meant… I just mean like we’re all adults now, we just fucking graduated, why don’t we go to the fucking swallow just to piss Manny off? You know how he hates kids coming to his store.”

It was true. Manny, the proud proprietor of the only porn shop in town named The White Swallow, much to the disgust of the first female mayor, hated any kids coming into his store. He had a strict policy of only 18+ but the kids of Shannon had made it a mission to sneak in before then. Hayner, Pence, and Olette were no exception to the childish game and had attempted to sneak past Manny by shoving Hayner through a broken back window, but the plan had ultimately failed when Hayner fell onto the VHS player of the back room and had started playing Back Door Sluts 7 by mistake. The irrefutable sounds of moaning drew Manny to the back room to discover Hayner furiously pressing the stop button only for it to have jammed on him when it broke his fall. Manny had turned as white as the name of his shop and kicked Hayner out with a broom screaming, “IF I EVER FUCKING SEE YOU KIDS AGAIN BEFORE YOU’RE 18 YOU BEST BELIEVE I’M CALLING THE FUCKING COPS! YOU GODDAMN FUCKING PUNKS!” Hayner ran down the street, with Olette and Pence just on his heels but not before screaming back, “WE’LL BE BACK WHEN WE’RE 18 DICKWEED!”

They hadn’t tried to break into Manny’s place again and at the time had been the closest to making it inside undetected, but a month later Selphie, of all people, broke their record by simply walking through the front door while Manny was ducked behind the counter and slipped into the backroom. It was a full 5 minutes before Manny realized she was in there, and she became a legend of Shannon High with her name recorded in the west hall’s boys bathroom with 5 minutes written proudly beside it. Most students realized how the name with the minute mark could be interpreted in an entirely different way by an outsider, but elected to simply not care if it was interpreted as such.

As Hayner sat on the swing with a shit eating grin on his face and Pence taking a final swig from the flask, Olette felt a swell in her chest and decided to act out her role, “Alright, let’s go piss off Manny.”

They opted to ride their bikes, stowed away in Pence’s backyard, rather than drive for fear of actually careening into the ocean by mistake. The bikes hadn’t been the brightest idea either, with Pence flipping over the handlebars after squeezing his brakes so hard Olette thought his fingers would snap in half. When questioned on the random breaking, Pence claimed a raccoon had stared him down with a knife in its mouth, and because it was Maine they didn’t entirely dismiss his story, but the realization of how drunk they were set in like a fine wine. Riding bikes wasn’t the best idea, but it had been the better of the two options.

They rode up to Swallow, quite wobbly, before depositing their bikes in a heap outside, along with the contents of Hayner’s stomach before entering with grins specially reserved for Manny. But they were disappointed to discover that Manny wasn’t actually manning the counter but a small blond boy with hardened blue eyes was. He sat there flipping through a cosmo that had a half concealed picture of Michelle Pfeiffer in her Catwoman suit with a pop up bubble claiming, “Michelle dishes on co-worker Christopher Walken in this exclusive article!” and looked up at the sound of the bell jingling overheard. “How can I help-“ The words died on his lips as he looked over the three recent high school grads, with Hayner hurriedly wiping away the rest of the puke from his mouth, Pence smiling sheepishly as his forehead still bled from his wipeout, and Olette realizing she was still wearing her graduation attire and hastily tried to fix her lopsided cap, as if it really mattered at that point. 

The four seemed to stare at each other for what felt like an hour until Hayner drunkenly spoke with only a slight hiccup, “You’re not Manny.”

The blonde’s shocked expression didn’t leave as he replied in a voice that was much too calm for the situation he was in, “… Clearly.”

They continued to stare at each other, with Hayner leaving for only a brief moment to resume his vomiting outside, and with the boy’s expression starting to fall from shock to clear annoyance, no doubt realizing he would have to hose down the front after these three left. When Hayner returned, looking more green than he had moments ago, he asked, “Well is uh Manny here?”

“… Clearly not.”

For all of her 18 years of life Olette couldn’t remember a time she had felt more embarrassed in her life, not even the time Hayner had called her a doting mother. She stood there, clothes rumpled to all hell, flushed from the booze, with her sweaty hair curling at the base of her neck feeling like a complete and utter jackass standing in front of this stranger with no real purpose in mind except to piss off a middle-aged man who ran a porn shop, with a hilarious name even she had to admit, who just so happened to not be there the one night they actually needed him to be there. Not one of them took a moment to consider that one man couldn’t possibly run a 24 hour porn shop by himself and was in fact not guaranteed to be there at 3:17 in the morning, when they drunkenly biked 2 miles with many spills along the way. Now standing in front of this boy she could feel more heat rise to her cheeks, and thought about emptying out the contents of her stomach as well. But then Hayner spoke again, pride apparent in his tone even after he hurled twice in front of the boy, “Well who the fuck are you then? I didn’t know Manny had an employee.”

The boy looked like he wasn’t gonna answer, simply glaring out the front door at Hayner’s puke but just as Hayner started to get riled up he answered, “Roxas. Manny just hired me. This is my first night.”

Before Hayner could say any more Pence thankfully interjected, “Are you new around here? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

Roxas slowly closed his cosmo, realizing he wasn’t gonna be able to keep reading with these three drunk children in front of him. Michelle Pfeiffer would have to wait. “Yeah I’m new, just got here 3 days ago.”

“We don’t get a lot of newcomers here.” Olette smiled slightly, trying to make the situation less awkward, but she doubted it was working. 

Roxas looked at her, eyes as blue as their ocean, as he asked, “College?”

Olette blinked. “What?”

He waved a hand, gesturing to her ensemble. He raised an eyebrow as she looked down to her robes, blushing madly. “Uhh high school actually.” She mumbled, pulling her robes closer as if she could just keep pulling them until she disappeared entirely.

“Congrats, I.D. please.” 

Olette blanched, turning quickly to Hayner and Pence who both realized in that exact moment that none of them had brought their wallets with them. All of their mouths gaped like gutted fish and Roxas only quirked another eyebrow as he leaned back and said, “None of you have your I.D.’s? Is it in your car?”

They again all looked at each other, then out to the parking lot where their bikes stacked up on each other, no longer looking as cool as it did when they first strode in. 

“Uh we um biked here.” Pence squeaked, still dripping blood onto his white collar.

Roxas leaned forward now, clasping both hands in front and spoke in a soft voice that normally would have soothed the soul but only made Olette’s face grow even redder, “So let me get this straight. You three graduated high school today?” They all nodded in sync. “Probably went home and partied.” Nods. “Decided to come here but realized you were too drunk to drive.” Nods. “Rode your bikes, god only knows how many miles, and quite clearly wiped out multiple times.” Nods. “Parked your bikes in that haphazard mess, puked outside the store, and came in to realize that your funny plan of pissing off Manny was not actually all that thought out when you saw me sitting behind the counter instead. And none of you have your I.D.’s on you to prove that you are legally allowed to be in this store at 3:26 in the morning.” No nods, but just silent stares. Roxas looked tired but after a second he started laughing, nothing loud or comical, but it was soft and sweet and his hardened eyes melted just a little bit and for a moment Olette felt that same flutter in her chest whenever she looked at Pence and Hayner. Hayner sputtered and started throwing out different stories to Roxas with Pence trying to correct the obvious lies but Roxas just continued to laugh and his blue eyes finally lost their edge as he lost himself to laughter, and Olette truly believed that in that precise moment all three of them had already decided to let this boy into their sunrise. 

Roxas had drove them all home that night, in a beat up red car with a California license plate, and Olette had shared a small smile with him that he returned genuinely with a promise that they would meet up the next day for ice cream. And the next morning, as the three of them nursed their hangovers with coffee and bagels they remembered their promise to meet Roxas for ice cream at Duck River’s Ice Cream, located on the ocean and not in fact on a river. They sat for a good ten minutes, sea salt dripping down their fingers when they finally voiced that Roxas was not going to show up, when a battered old red California car pulled into the parking lot with Roxas stepping out with the sunset in his hair. And Olette had always equated her boys with the sunrise, but with Roxas she knew he would always be the sunset. The last thing she would think about that day.

And on that day Olette’s role finally morphed into the one she always knew she was, the caretaker. It reminded her of the receding tide, slow and steady but always dependable. No longer was she the annoying doting mother, or the risk taker just for the sake of pleasing, she was the one who picked up her friends when they needed her most. She was the voice of reason but also the voice of adventure when needed. She could tell by the angles of their bodies, the tremor of their lips, and the glow in their eyes what they needed in those moments and she would provide. For when she first met Roxas she noticed the way his shoulders sagged, and his eyes lost their light glimmer when he thought no one was looking. She could see that something was broken in her friend, and piece-by-piece she tried to mend him. And there were days she felt like she managed to put a piece back, and others where she felt she had shattered them even more. For Roxas never talked about why he moved to Shannon from presumably California, the car being a topic he never discussed either, and in those stories Olette could tell she would be able to put the pieces back if only she knew, but the fact was she didn’t. And she tried to help her friend in small ways, buying him coffee on Friday mornings, visiting him at the Swallow after her shifts at Bowl-A-Palooza, paging him goodnight after a particularly hard day for either of them. And Roxas tried to help her in turn, while her friendship with Pence and Hayner had been mostly them taking, Roxas took the time to give. She had pondered over the years if she was in love with Roxas, but after watching how his smile fell and the mirth left his eyes when he looked away from them for too long she realized that she wasn’t sure she could be in love with somebody like that. Not truly.

It was on May 14th 1994, a Saturday to be exact, when her and Roxas had their weekly pancake breakfast at Jay’s Diner, when she noticed a different kind of look in Roxas’ eye, as if he was remembering a fond moment, and the sides of his mouth were upturned more than usual. She took a bite of her pancake before asking, “What’s got you in such a good mood today, besides my stunning presence of course?”

He rolled his eyes as he took a bite of his own pancakes and said, “I just had a good day yesterday, that’s all. And I’m always in a good mood when I’m in your presence your highness.” Olette playfully threw her napkin at him and they both laughed but in that moment Olette couldn’t help but see the sunset in Roxas’ eyes and couldn’t help but equate it to a warm twilight. There was a piece that seemed to have been mended, and she idly wondered what mended it as they both chatted amiably around a pile of steaming pancakes.


	4. Landline

Manny installed a second landline in Roxas’ bedroom that rested conveniently above The Swallow. He had muttered something about being on call 24/7, but Roxas knew it was because Manny had caught him using the landline by the cash register and was pissed. 

The landline besides the cash register was specifically meant to receive customer phone calls, never to actually be used to make a call even if it was in the name of just exceptional customer service. During Roxas’ first few months of working at this fine establishment he came to recognize the different calls he received. 

The first and most likely were prank phone calls made by fifteen year old boys exclusively. And even more exclusively the calls came from Trevor Parke and his gang of his only two friends Scott McAdam and Brandon Petchkin. 

Trevor, Scott, and Brandon formulated a friendship through the power of prank phone calling and through this new bond invested most of their time to calling The Swallow, specifically when Roxas was working. The boys in question had prank called Manny only once, and the legend began on that faithful day. 

They had called asking to order a pizza and Manny had to then explain that the establishment they were looking for did not belong to that particular phone number. The boys insisted it was a pizza place and the rapturous giggles of one Trevor Parke gave them away. 

Now many have theorized that if Trevor Parke did not in fact giggle in the static of the phone that Manny might never have figured out it was in fact the 3 Idiots, a name bestowed to them by their mothers of all people. For Manny knew Trevor’s giggle from the poker nights Mr. Parke held at his abode on Wednesdays at nine pm. During that time The Fresh Prince of Bel Air premiered its new episodes and Trevor would sit on the shit brown couch his mother insisted was actually nice and watch said latest new episodes, where his laughter could be heard by all the men playing poker in the kitchen. Manny could pick that sound out of a recording of a hundred children’s laughs. 

But because Trevor Parke did giggle, Manny knew the 3 Idiots were behind the call. He hung up without another word, grabbed an old slice of pepperoni out of his fridge, and drove over to the Parke’s residence. 

When Trevor answered the door, the shit eating grin that seems to permanently be on the faces of 14 year old boys, fell faster than a penny thrown from the Empire State. Manny said not a word as he slowly walked across the threshold, into the living room, and dragged the cold slice of pepperoni across the shit brown couch and deposited it on the cushion that Trevor sat on every night. He looked Trevor in the eye and simply said, “I’ve delivered your pizza,” and walked out. Needless to say Trevor’s parents did not believe that a grown man had dragged a slice of old pizza all over their furniture and Trevor had been grounded for a month. The legend says that Manny still goes over to the Parke’s residence every Wednesday night and smiles at the sight of the new navy blue coach sitting dejectedly in the living room.

The 3 Idiots never prank called The Swallow again… that is until Roxas, innocent and unsuspecting, began working there. Now he receives at least 5 calls a week from the idiots, and learned to despise Trevor’s giggles as much as Manny does.

The second type of phone calls The Swallow received were of the drunk and high variety, specifically from Roxas’ own friends. After Hayner, Pence, and Olette befriended Roxas they started making a habit of calling their friend whenever they got fucked up without him. They simply reasoned that they missed the blond during their hangouts and wanted him to feel included. While Roxas appreciated his friends, Manny did not appreciate them racking up his phone bill. Roxas was able to get away with the charade for a few months, claiming it was just the local drunks getting a kick for picking on the outsider, but when Roxas was in the back dusting off the old nudey mags no one wanted to buy his friends chose to call. He wasn’t fast enough to the phone and Manny picked up, the “hello” on the tip of his tongue before the drunken slurs of Hayner’s voice rang over the line. 

“Roxx you gotta tell Pence that dildo’s are actually $14.99 and not $15.99, I know it for a factttt and this fucking blowhole won’t listen!!”

Roxas had feared for his life many times but none of those other times compared to that night. For post traumatic stress reasons Roxas doesn’t fully remember what happened afterward but regardless his friends no longer called The Swallow, period.

The third phone calls were of a boring variety, actual customers simply needing answers to questions. These calls never excited Roxas and he dreaded them for the most part. There was only so much help a 20-year old could give concerning which porno had the most footage of the clitoris. It was also an answer he despised that he now knew the answer to.

The fourth phone call was new, incredibly recent, starting on May 12th, 1994 to be exact. The phone would ring, shrill as the fucking banshee’s cry, and Roxas would answer, “Hello, thank you for calling The White Swallow. This is Roxas speaking, how can I help you?” It would go silent, except for the occasional breathy gasp and he would ask, “Hello? Is anyone there?” and the gasps would intensify. Now to most normal people this would be an indicator to hang up, phone the police, and prevent a horror movie from even beginning, but because Roxas put customer service above all else he did not immediately hang up, but rather stayed on the line repeating, “Hello? Can you hear me?” And just before he would give up completely, a voice would hiss, “I know what you are!” and the next sound he heard was the dial tone.

It took only 2 calls before Roxas figured out the voice belonged to Big Bertha’s Big Brother, as he heard from Selphie that the boy believed Roxas to be the devil. He could simply stalk B4 down and put an end to the nonsense but a small part of Roxas, the part his demons didn’t inhabit, felt a bit guilty about the way he treated Big Bertha’s Big Brother on May 12. So he decided to let him have this one thing. He would tolerate the calls, within reason, if it made Big Bertha’s Big Brother feel even just a little bit better afterwards.

With these four types of calls the only ones that came in, Manny had not been expecting a collect call from California of all places. Expecting it to be a telemarketer he answered, “I’m not interested, take me off your list.”

“S-sorry? My list?”

“Yeah, whatever you’re selling I ain’t buyin’. So take me off the goddamn list.”

“Oh I’m sorry… I must have the wrong number. You don’t sound like my friend.”

Manny paused. “Your friend? Who you tryin’ to call?”

“Umm my friend Roxas, he gave me this number to reach him at but I must’ve hit the wrong numbers I’m sor-“

“Roxas? He only got 3 friends. Olette, Pence, and that little fucker Hayner. Which one are you?”

The voice paused on the other end, before answering, albeit a little frightened, “Umm neither, sir. I-I’m Namine, I-“

“Namine? I never heard of no Namine before.” Manny spat.

He did start to realize that the voice on the line, light as a feather, was definitely not a voice that belonged to Roxas’ three numbskull friends. But he had never heard Roxas talk about a Namine before either, but as he listened only half-heartedly to the girl’s explanation he thought back to the California number and looked out the window to Roxas’ old beat up red Toyota with the decrepit California license plate. Something clicked, and Manny interrupted the girl mid-explanation.

“You one of his friends from back home?”

“Umm uh y-yes, sir, as I was saying I’ve known Roxas since we were children-“

“This the first time you callin’ this number?”

“N-no sir. I’ve called before.”

“Hmm alright miss, I’ll let Roxas know you called.”

“Ah! Th-thank you! Please tell him th-“

Manny hung up, eyes steely as he gazed at the door that led to Roxas’ apartment. It only took one hard knock before Manny heard the thundering footsteps of Roxas’ feet flying down the stairs. The blond threw open the door, eyes blinking away sleep, and hair an unbridled mess, but nonetheless standing in front of Manny.

Roxas blubbered, “Is it time for my shift? I could’ve sworn I had another hour-“

“You got a call.”

The blond’s eyebrows knitted in confusion, “A call?” Confusion was replaced with embarrassment as red tinged the skin behind his ears, “Was it Hayner? I’m so sorry Manny I told him to stop calli-“

“No, not him.”

Confusion was back. “Then who?”

“Namine.”

Roxas’ gaping mouth snapped shut instantly and even someone like Manny who wasn’t good at reading people, could see that something closed off in Roxas’ eyes and being a private man himself, could tell that this was something the blond never expected to come up.

After a stunted silence Roxas finally answered, “I’m sorry Manny, I’ll pay for the call. You can take it out of my paycheck.”

Now Manny was a man who prided himself on his lack of emotion. He was Irish, so the idea of showing any feeling besides anger and drunken happiness was foreign to him, but as he looked down at this kid he housed and employed for a little over a year he couldn’t help but feel something akin to affection, and it was this exact slip of emotion that led to the next words tumbling out of his mouth.

“I’m gonna put a second landline upstairs.”

Roxas snapped mouth dropped open again. “What?”

“Landline. Upstairs. You deaf boy?” Manny snapped.

“Uh no no I’m not… why… why are you putting a phone in my room?” 

“If you’re gonna have your little friends call you then the least you can do is be on 24/7 call for the shop.” Manny turned his back to Roxas, his own face starting to tinge red from embarrassment. “I don’t wanna hear nothing about you missin’ calls from customers boy.”

Even without looking at him Manny could see the radiant smile that wormed its way onto Roxas’ face as the boy happily replied, “Of course sir. You know me, all about that customer service.”

Manny coughed. “Good… now go get ready, you smell like shit.”

Roxas chuckled and ran back upstairs, door closing behind him.

Manny returned to the counter, glaring down at his landline, and couldn’t help but think that the small child that lived above had turned from being a helpless outsider to something almost familial. He dare not say the word aloud for fear of it ringing even a little bit true.

So on May 21st, 1994 to be exact, Roxas sat on his bed, tying up his laces when the second landline rang on his nightstand. Not as shrill as the first landline, but reminded Roxas of that time Hayner screamed when a bat flew at him.

He picked up, cradling the handle between his ear and neck, “Hello, thanks for calling the White Swallow. This is Roxas speaking, how may I-“

“Roxas it’s me.”

A small smile crested the corners of Roxas’ mouth as he breathed, “Hey Nam.”

“Hey yourself. I haven’t heard from you in a week, just wanted to make sure the town didn’t burn you at the stake for being a witch yet.”

Roxas laughed, and laid back down on his blue comforter. “Unfortunately not yet but I can be hopeful for the future.”

“The only certainty in life. Being burned at the stake.”

“Very true.”

“But seriously, what’s going on? I have a feeling I missed something major.”

“Yeah, actually… I made a new friend. Weird, huh?”

Namine gasped dramatically, “No! I don’t believe it. Did Sweaty Joe finally wear you down?”

“He wishes, but no. It’s an actual person that isn’t sweaty… well not always sweaty.”

Roxas could hear Namine shifting on her own comforter in the background. He closed his eyes and he could picture the stark white bedspread with colorful stains creeping around the edges, no doubt from Namine’s markers she used for drawing. He could picture her bed perfectly, and even the drawings that she thumbtacked to her white walls, but when he tried to picture his friend laying on her bed or the way her eyes creased when she laughed, his memories simply couldn’t give him the images even with her sweet voice in his ear. His smile fell at the thought, as he heard Namine say, “So… give me the deets Roxas. Who is this new mysterious friend, and should Hayner be jealous?”

“ Hmm I think Hayner’s safe for now,” a small smile returned as he answered, “but his name is Axel.” 

“Axel? Well he’s got a cool name at least.” She chuckled. “Well, I mean how did you meet this Axel?”

Roxas sighed, “It’s kind of a long story.”

He could almost picture Namine’s smile as she replied, “Well I’ve got nothing but time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late, I swear I must have rewritten this chapter at least ten times. But I hope you guys enjoyed, and next chapter will be focused on Roxas and Axel, don't you worry.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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